Wonderland
by Snowpoppy
Summary: Makoto is a girl who is always reading. Always reading... like a fish out of water. Her world is plagued by family and social trouble. Sanada Genichiro has nothing to do with her, except for one small moment which doesn't count as a conversation. But at one point, their lives briefly intersect- and Makoto begins her own odyssey into defining her existence along with the world's.


**Another plot bunny. Can't help it. Hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own PoT. Dude. Seriously. **

**Enjoy. **

I once liked to talk to people. I used to be one of those people other people gathered around. I'm not sure when the change happened. Maybe it was when I moved. Maybe it was when my mom really turned bad.

I'm not sure. But the truth is, I changed into a person people avoided. I was a "nerd", a "geek". Somebody who sat alone at lunch reading a book. Who sat alone in the corner. Who simply didn't care about what other people thought.

Every year, I resolved to make friends. Every year, I walked away with a grand total of zero friends and maybe two or three acquaintances. This year, I expected the same. By that time, when I was a first year in junior high, I had accepted my book and myself.

* * *

I was reading _Confessions of a Shopaholic_ at the time. By Sophie Kinsella. I adored Becky Bloomwood- her innocence, her pure enjoyment in life. She was so unlike me. She probably would've walked into Rikkai confidently, with a bright smile on her face.

I walked into Rikkai as just another student, neither nervous or eager.

As I entered the classroom, nobody bothered to glance at me. I sat in the middle-ish and opened up my _Shopaholic_. I absent-mindedly read a couple of chapters when the teacher came in. A short, chubby woman with squinty, kind eyes. "Hello!" she said in a husky, excited voice. "I'm Tamura! Nice to meet you." She adjusted her folders and I closed my book, placing it under my chair in easy reach.

Actually, I think that was when he came in. That deadly serious, handsome boy. I didn't know what his name was. He came in through the door without a single glance at the class and handed Tamura-sensei a stack of manila folders.

"Arigatou," she said and the boy bowed at a formal, ninety-degree angle. What a strange boy. An involuntary smile flitted across my face. I didn't think of him again for the rest of the day.

* * *

When I came home the sound of intense voices choked up my ears. I calmly set down my things and sat down under the window and began to read again. This way, I didn't have to listen to the awful sound of my parents bickering.

Mom stomped down the hallway to where I was sitting. Her face was red and scrunched, making her seem much older than her forty years. My body tensed as I waited to see if she would do something or if she would just stomp up the stairs.

Instead, she did something she had never done before (though it came as no surprise). She picked my pair of worn sneakers and threw them at me.

Oh well. Dad came storming over. He's normally the nicest, gentlest person when it comes to anything. He stands in front of mom and shouts something along the reason of "Why?!" as I struggle to continue reading. All of a sudden, Becky and her debt don't mean much to me.

"Fuck you!" she screams and throws another shoe, one of my flip flops. It completely misses me and I pick it up, pretending it's not bothering me at all. "FUCK ALL OF YOU!" she screams again and throws another shoe. This time dad blocks it. Thankfully he's wearing one of those puffy thick jackets so it just kind of drops down at his feet.

She screams one last "fuck you" at us and runs angrily up the stairs, no doubt to retreat into her bedroom to continue watching her beloved Japanese dramas. The door slams loudly, seemingly making the house vibrate.

Dad sighs, his eyes drooping. He too seems much older than his forty seven years. "We should move out," he says tiredly. "I can't stand this anymore."

I feel the urge to snort. Dad's too kind to do that. After all, he's stood it for eighteen years. That's a good chunk of your life. He's just like a squashed plant. "It's okay," I say softly and place the shoes back onto their proper places. "Just another fit, huh?" I smile weakly while dad sinks down into the chair.

The door slams open and another "fuck you" comes screaming down. Then it slams the loudest it ever has again. Wow. Mom must be really angry. I know the reason is probably some reason that's not even worth mentioning.

"Ah..."

I sit down at the computer and turn it on, ready to do my homework. Dad closes his eyes like he doesn't want to deal with it.

An image of that boy's solid brown eyes flickers into my eyes. I brush it away and set to work on the review worksheets.

**R & R? **


End file.
